


Move This

by Saone



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saone/pseuds/Saone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen really loves being a stripper, but there are pitfalls that come with the job - like the big, gorgeous bouncer who only seems to pay attention to Jensen when he's writhing around on stage, or the creepy regulars who can't seem to understand that dancer doesn't equal hooker. Still, it's pretty sweet, until one night when Jensen has a run in with a couple of "fans" in the club's parking lot. Luckily, Jensen has a few skills up his sleeve, and that bouncer might be paying closer attention than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for blindfold-spn on LiveJournal using [this](http://blindfold-spn.livejournal.com/4508.html?thread=5567644#t5567644) prompt. Now with about 4,000 more words of schmoop and porn.

If anyone asks - and some do - Jensen will always say that his favorite music to dance to are the old hair-band anthems from the seventies and eighties. 'Cock rock', as some say, though Jensen's loathe to use that expression around his workplace's clientele - it's never good to give them _ideas_.

Anyway, AC/DC, Def Leppard, and their ilk are his go-to answers, because actually admitting that he likes the beat of Katy Perry's _E.T._ is a little too gay for his tastes. He may like taking cock, and he doesn't always hate the way he looks when he's all dolled up and glittered, but Jensen draws the line at admitting he might groove to pop music.

Still, there's no other song that really works for his wildly popular visitor-from-another-planet shtick, so he pretends to reluctantly hand over his playlist and ignores Misha's smirk.

Jensen's stage name is called, the song starts, and Jensen's body begins to move, almost without his volition. He raises his arms and lets his hips jerk and sway, imagining how the iridescent accents on his sheer, silver bodysuit catch the light.

Keeping his body moving to the beat, Jensen begins to peel off parts of his suit, his fingers unerringly finding the hidden Velcro and snap closures. With the reveal of each new piece of shimmering skin the audience falls more and more under his spell. Even the men he recognizes, who have seen this act time and time again, still seem mesmerized by him.

Even Jared, the big man by the door who's usually so professional, looks utterly entranced by Jensen's dancing.

Jensen turns his back to the crowd so no one can notice the slight smile that comes to his face. 'Course he also uses the move to bend over and push his ass out. He's got a _great_ ass.

Jensen turns around again and lets more of the material fall away from his body. The only coverings he has left are his boots, bands around his wrists and throat, and the silver pouch at his crotch. He drops to his knees and begins to crawl towards the catwalk that juts out from the stage. He doesn't really care for this part, but men are already crowding in, bills clutched in eager hands.

Who is Jensen to deny his public?

As he crawls down the catwalk he makes sure to exaggerate his movements, knowing how the light is playing off his muscles.

He's got a _great_ back and set of shoulders too.

Fingers start to slip under the strings of his thong. As long as they leave behind donations, Jensen's cool with it. He's less cool with the bold ones who let their touch linger on the meat of his ass, or let their knuckles brush against his package. When that happens, Jensen grits his teeth and thinks about how breaking fingers would be bad for business.

Jensen hears the cue in Misha's special extended mix, and he surges upright suddenly, letting his knees go wide and angling his pelvis out. The beat is slightly faster now and Jensen throws his head back as he works the muscles in his thighs and ass, rolling his hips up and down like he's riding the hell out of some awesome imaginary cock.

He actually hears some of his admirers groan and more money is offered to him.

Yeah, that part's always a crowd-pleaser.

The music fades out. His performance is over. Jensen rises gracefully to his feet, and, with a soft smile on his face for his many admirers, he makes his way offstage. As surreptitiously as possible he seeks out Jared again, but the big bouncer has lost interest now that Jensen's not dancing.

Jensen fights to keep a scowl off his face. Isn't that always the way; Jensen's good enough to ogle when he's onstage, but not good enough to keep Jared's attention when there's no ass-shaking involved. He waits until he's behind the curtain before he lets his irritation show. He nods to the poor gopher who gets to go out and pick up all his costume pieces and wipe his sweat off the stage, then he makes his way back to the dressing room.

"Fuck," Matt says upon Jensen's arrival, pausing in his oiling up to give the other man a good once-over. "You look extra pissed. They grabby tonight?"

"Nah, no more so than usual." Jensen absentmindedly begins to gather the money from his thong. He quickly counts it and can't help but feel a little impressed at his haul. It's not bad for his first song of the night, and he still has one more performance scheduled later and several circuits of the club to make before the night's through.

"Ah," Matt says in a disgustingly knowing manner. "Jared, huh?"

Jensen's only reply is a snort.

"You know, novel idea here, you could actually _talk_ to him."

"He's not interested."

"Bullshit!" Matt laughs. "The way he looks at you... Trust me, you give him half a chance and he'll be taking your costumes off of you with his teeth."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want him to be just interested when I'm in costume." Jensen wishes his voice didn't sound so damn petulant.

Matt's quiet for a moment, and Jensen luxuriates in that, then he softly says, "sorry man, I don't know if Jared's interested in trying for something long haul, but he's _definitely_ interested in your ass, if that helps any?" Matt's head jerks up when he hears his stage name announced. "Shit! Gotta jet. Just... when you're doing your circuits, try to make it over to the door, and see what happens, okay?"

Matt flies out of the room before Jensen can formulate any snarky remarks. Jensen gets it; he needs to shag ass too. JD, the club's owner, doesn't like for there to be much downtime between his boys working the stage and them working the floor. Jensen checks his face in the mirror in front of his station. The kohl around his eyes has smeared a bit, but he likes the effect so he doesn't try and fix it. He does, however, rub on some more shimmery body lotion to make up for what he sweated off. Then he switches his thong for a _slightly_ more modest pair of booty shorts.

Jensen pastes on his best fake smile and walks out onto the main floor of the club. He's almost immediately besieged by men wanting to buy him drinks. Jensen very firmly tells himself to get out of his Jared-induced funk. Again. If the big lug won't appreciate him then there are plenty of others who will, and Jensen turns his face towards their attention like a flower seeking the sun.

He accepts one drink - which no one but Jensen and Mark, the bartender, know is more club soda than anything else - but manages to convince the men still clamoring for him that they all need more refreshments themselves.

This is the part of the job Jensen detests the most. He wants to dance, not push overpriced liquor at lonely, horny men. Though, the money that they push into his shorts does help to ease his frustrations a bit.

Jensen chats, and flirts, and laughs his way across the room, moving close enough to give the illusion of offering himself, but flitting away whenever anyone's hands threaten to get overly familiar. There are a few moments when he feels a frisson of _wrongness_ run up and down his spine. He writes it off as paranoia. After all, it's not the first time someone unidentifiable has made his hackles rise.

A strip club doesn't exactly suffer from a lack of perverts.

Jensen mentally shrugs and keeps working. Twenty minutes later he's back onstage, moving to Rhianna this time. After that he's back on the floor again, trying to keep up his charming facade while mentally counting down the minutes until the end of his shift.

There's one particularly irritating individual who's having the hardest time understanding that, regardless of what he may have heard about strippers, Jensen's ass isn't' actually for sale. Jensen usually has to deal with a couple of these a night but, for some reason, this one is seriously getting on his last nerve.

Luckily, before he can do something regrettable, like break the jackass' face, Mark calls him over to the bar.

"You look like you were about to wallop on that poor gentlemen," Mark says.

"Yeah, well, maybe someone who doesn't get the whole 'no means fucking no' concept needs to get his ass kicked."

Mark shakes his head and makes a sympathetic tutting noise. "Here," he says, putting two water bottles on the bar, "take these over to Chad and Jared. If the guy follows, politely explain the concept to him one more time, within earshot."

Jensen grins. Jared may not have any personal love for him, but he does take his job of protecting the club's assets very seriously. Jensen starts towards the door, and when the asshole tries to approach him again, he holds up the bottles of water and jerks his head towards the two bouncers. The guy backs off. Jensen chuckles.

Chad sees him approaching first and elbows Jared in his side. Jared turns, irritation clear on his face, but when he sees Jensen his expression clears and settles into a kind of blank look. Jensen does _not_ feel stung by that. Not at all.

"Here," Jensen says, holding out the water. "Compliments of Mark."

They take the bottles. Jared opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and turns back towards the door.

Jerk.

Chad scowls at Jared, then says to Jensen, "your shift's almost over, right? You need one of us to walk you out to your truck? Jay's not doing anything right now, are you, man?"

Jensen blinks. He had no idea the bouncers kept such a close eye on the dancers' schedules. He thinks about saying yes, just for the hell of it, but the tense line of Jared's shoulders tells him that trying to get a rise out of the bigger man might not be the greatest of ideas.

"Thanks," he says, "but I'll be fine. See you guys later." He resists letting his eyes linger on Jared's back and instead deftly maneuvers his way across the floor. He sees the wannabe john closing in again, but Jensen manages to slip backstage before he gets too close. He nods and waves to a few of his fellow dancers, then he hits the showers for a perfunctory wash before he puts his street clothes back on. Jensen shoulders his gear-filled backpack, and, after a few quick goodbyes, he's out the back door of the club and striding across the parking lot. He's already dreaming of the beer that's waiting in his fridge and the shows that are waiting on his DVR.

He's almost to his truck when something, _something_ , makes him pause. The hair on the back of his neck goes up and every instinct he has is telling him to move, _now_!

Jensen feels the air change and he's ducking and spinning away before two hands can grab him. When he rights himself he's facing three men. They're of average size, average build, and, more than likely, below average intelligence. He vaguely recognizes one of them as another wannabe john from an encounter a few weeks ago. The other faces don't ring any bells, but Jensen wouldn't bet against them being regulars too.

The one on the left, the one who had tried to grab him, flexes his fists. The one in the middle cracks his knuckles - hello, cliche. The one on the right raises his hand enough to let Jensen see the taser he's holding.

Jensen lets his pack drop to the ground. He purposefully loosens his shoulders and plasters a shit-eating grin on his face. "Problem, fellas?"

"The only problem will be if you put up a fuss, Dean," Taser-Guy says. "You come with us, nice and easy like, and everything will be just fine."

Jensen laughs outright at that. "Do I look that stupid, really?" He notices how the men are staring to move, like they're trying to flank him. He starts his own dance, wanting to keep all three of them in his line of sight.

"You look like a slut!" the man on the left shouts.

"Somebody's got anger issues," Jensen murmurers.

"And, _somebody_ needs to learn that there are consequences to his actions." Anger-Issues says. "What, you think you can just wear what you wear and dance how you dance, and not be expected to follow through on your knees when you get men too worked up to think straight?"

Jensen blinks. "Uh, yeah. That's kind of how stripping works, dude."

"Not this time," Taser-guy says. "We're not gonna do any permenent damage. We're just gonna take you and have some fun. But as long as you behave we'll let you go after we're done."

Jensen wants to laugh again. Let him go? After he's seen their faces? Right. Then again maybe they're all just stupid enough to not have realized their mistake. But, no, with the way hatred is practically rolling off Anger-Issues, and the eerie calmness of Knuckle-Cracker, and the way Taser-Guy is fingering his trigger, Jensen knows that the only way these three would let him go would be when they got rid of his corpse.

Well, fuck that.

"Alright, guys," Jensen says. "You want me? Come get me."

____________

 

"You're an idiot."

"Shut up, Chad."

"And a moron."

"Are you really gonna do this for the rest of the night?"

"I mean, shit, Jared, I _practically_ served the guy up on a silver platter for you, and what do you do?"

Jared momentarily takes his eyes off the crowd so he can roll them in their sockets. "I know what I did."

"Instead of helping the damsel in distress, you ignored him." Chad slowly shakes his head. "I really expected more from you."

"Okay, first of all, Jensen is definitely not a _damsel_ , in distress or otherwise. And secondly, he said he didn't need anyone to walk him out. I'm not gonna push myself on him. Jesus, he gets enough of guys doing that already."

"Point," Chad concedes. "But, Jay, he never gives those guys the kinds of looks he gives you." He frowns. "It's hard to explain, but it's like, those guys get _Dean's_ attention; you have Jensen's."

Jared sighs. Chad had said similar things in the past, but he had never been so blatant before. "You really think-"

"I think," Chad says, checking his watch, "that if you hurry, you might be able to catch him before he leaves. And I also think you need to do it tonight before you can talk yourself out of it." He pushes Jared away from him. "Go. Now."

Jared lets himself be propelled forward a few feet before he shrugs and says, "fuck it." He ignores Chad's subdued, yet heartfelt, whoop, and starts towards the back of the club. He doesn't know if it's his size, or his tight, black tee-shirt with the word STAFF on it, but he cuts through the crowd easily.

Backstage is a kind of controlled chaos. Jared doesn't want to bother anyone who's getting ready to go out, but he spies Brock already made up and just lounging in his chair reading the paper.

"Hey, man, "Jared says, "is Jensen still around?"

"Jensen, huh?" Brock gives him a loaded smile. Then he shakes his head and looks almost compassionate when he says, "sorry, he's already clocked out."

"But it was only a few minutes ago," Malik pipes up with far more interest than Jared thinks is necessary. "You might still be able to catch him in the lot."

Jared realizes that all the dancers have stopped their preparations and are staring at him. It's kind of creepy.

"Yeah," Matt says, "especially if that ancient, sorry, _vintage_ Ford of his is being temperamental." He shoos Jared towards the back door. "Go on, man. At least try."

Jared glances around at the dancers again. They all look so... _expectant_. Jared's pretty sure he's missed something.

"Okay," Jared says, slowly moving towards the door. "I'll just..." He slips out into the night air and breathes a sigh of relief. But that relief is short-lived though because his ears immediately pick up sounds of a scuffle. Before he can think, instinct has Jared moving through the sea of cars towards the noise. When he rounds a rather nondescript white van the sight he sees nearly stops his heart.

Jensen's being assaulted by three men.

Jared opens his mouth to yell out, to let Jensen know that he's here, and let the men know if they want Jensen they'll have to get through Jared - and _no one_ gets through Jared - but the air freezes in Jared's lungs because Jensen is...

Beautiful.

What Jared had first mistook for a simple assault is nothing but. Yes, the men may have been going after Jensen, but Jensen is more than holding his own. Jared's untrained eye recognizes at least three different fighting styles as Jensen delivers a light jab to the throat here and a soft kick to the back of a knee there. The three men are probably running on more rage than common sense at the moment, or they would realize that Jensen is almost... toying with them.

No, he's not just toying with them; he's _tiring_ them.

"Hey," Jensen calls out, startling Jared completely, "you want to call the cops?" He punctuates the word 'cops' by delivering a roundhouse kick that has his boot grazing one of the guy's faces.

Jared blinks a few times, curses, and fumbles with his phone, all while trying to keep at least one eye on Jensen. Holy shit, just when he thought the dancer couldn't get any hotter. He dials 9-1-1 by touch and when the operator comes on he's pleasantly surprised by how calm his voice is. Police presence is promised in a matter of minutes, and Jared then calls JD inside the club to let him know what's going on.

JD lets loose with a rather inventive string of curses and a few seconds later Jared hears the back door slam open and JD, plus most of the dancers, spill out into the parking lot.

Jared's glad Jensen has more of an audience, because the skill with which he's moving really shouldn't be missed.

One by one Jensen's attackers fall to the ground while Jensen stands above them, barely winded. He's keeping a wary eye on the men, but Jared's pretty sure they're out for the count and are probably too sore to actually move even if they aren't.

There's a brief moment of silence before everyone except Jared and Jensen starts chattering. Questions are being throw out left and right, but Jensen's not acknowledging any of them. Jared wants to make his way over to Jensen, to offer... support probably isn't the right word, but Matt gets there first. The dark-haired man wraps his friend in a tight hug. Then it's Malik's turn. Jared watches as Jensen's passed around from dancer to dancer. Even JD gives him a brief but, if the whoosh of breath Jensen lets out is any indication, hard embrace.

The wail of sirens cut through the night, and two cop cars pull into the lot. Two officers emerge from their cars. They're both wearing dubious expressions; the older one even scratches his head.

"Uh, Officers Pellegrino and Pileggi," the younger one says, introducing them. He stares at the three prostrate forms, then prods one of them with the toe of his shoe. The other cop calls for an ambulance. "What, um... What happened?"

Jensen shrugs. "They were waiting for me when I came out. I recognized one of them as someone who had propositioned me before, but I don't do that kind of shit," he says darkly.

"No one here does that kind of shit," Jeff adds, his voice a strange mix of fear and fury.

Jared can feel his fingernails dig into his palms. He blocks out the rest of what Jensen tells the cop; he doesn't need to hear it since his mind has already filled in any blanks. They were going to take Jensen. They were going to do horrible things to him. Jared might never have seen the man again. Christ, he wonders if this is what a panic attack feels like.

While Jared is trying to get his racing heart under control, he picks up on the cop's next question.

"How did you... I mean, you managed to... But you're a...."

Jensen's grin is soft and almost bashful. Jared feels lightheaded, and he realizes his heart is back to normal.

"Christian Kane," Jensen says.

Pileggi frowns. "The retired MMA fighter? What's he got to-"

"He's one of my best friends," Jensen says. "We've known each other since we were kids, and I've been his sparring partner since I was fourteen. He's got a gym on the other side of town and I go there every few days to mess around and keep sharp."

Jared slowly absorbs this information. Of all the explanations he had been expecting, finding out that Jensen was some kind of martial arts badass was not on the list. From the shocked looks on the other faces around them, it wasn't on their lists either. But that did explain why Jensen didn't let any of his punches or kicks really connect - regardless of their intentions, if Jensen, an arguably semi-professional martial artist, had seriously hurt any of the attackers, it might have hurt the case against them.

Jared glares at the three men, now restrained and just barely conscious. He wonders if they know how lucky they are.

Matt grins and lightly punches Jensen on the shoulder. "You ass-kicker, you."

There are more questions, but Jared tunes most of them out. He keeps slowly inching his way over to Jensen, though. By the time Pellegrino says that, unless Jensen wants to get checked out by the paramedics, he's free to go, Jared's the first to say, "let me take you home."

Jensen looks startled. "I, uh..."

"Yes!" Matt says. "He'd really appreciate that, wouldn't you, Jensen?"

"I don't think that-"

"You've had a shock to your system," Brock says wisely. "You shouldn't try and drive now."

Jensen raises one eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I'm-"

"Jensen," JD barks, "let the man take you home." He turns his head and gives Jared a wink.

"Fine," Jensen says, reluctantly. His big eyes stare right into Jared's.

Jared holds out a hand, and, after staring at it for a moment, Jensen slides his palm over Jared's. He leads Jensen to his SUV and, after an awkward moment where Jared tries to help Jensen into the vehicles and receives nothing but a scathing look in return, they're off. The ride's mostly silent - Jensen only speaks to give Jared directions - and for the twenty minutes it takes to get to Jensen's apartment, Jared is able to ruminate on what he wants to say.

Jared pulls up in front of a nicely restored brick townhouse with a huge flower planter on either side of the front door. He cuts the engine and waits until Jensen starts to undo his seatbelt to make his move.

Heart in his throat, Jared says, "look, what I'm about to say, If I make you uncomfortable, or if I overstep any boundaries then just let me know, and I'll never bring it up again."

Jensen radiates suspicion. "What?"

Jared takes a deep breath and goes for broke. "Chad thinks you have a thing for me, which would be kind of awesome because I have a thing for you too. So, maybe we should both stop being so stupid and have.... our, you know, things... together." Jared lets his head fall forward onto the steering wheel. "Fuck me." That had sounded _so_ much better in his head.

"Not on the first date," Jensen says softly.

Jared turns his head enough so he can peer at the other man. "What? I mean... what?"

"Fucking. I don't do that kind of thing until I've been property wooed." There's a glint in Jensen's eyes that tell Jared he's only half joking.

"Oh." Jared sits up straight and wipes his suddenly sweaty palms against his jeans. "Okay. I can do that. I can do woo. I love doing woo. I am a woo machine. I-" Thankfully Jensen takes the opportunity to lean over the center divider and take Jared's rambling mouth in a kiss. Jared's toes curl in his boots as he raises one hand to gently cup the back of Jensen's skull.

"It's a good thing you're pretty," Jensen says against his lips.

"Pretty awesome, you mean."

Jensen snorts. "If I had known you were such a dork I would have approached you ages ago."

Jared feels a fluttering in his chest. Jensen had wanted to approach him. Ages ago. Chad was going to be impossible to live with. "We've got a lot of time to make up for," Jared says letting his other hand rest on Jensen's thigh.

"Yeah," Jensen whispers, "we really do." He pulls back, and Jared lets him go. "But not tonight. I'm dead tired. Fighting for you life, even if it's only against some dumbasses, can take a lot out of a guy." Jensen smiles at Jared's expression. "Too soon?"

Jared growls. "It's always gonna be too soon. God, Jensen, when I think about what could have-"

This time Jensen's kiss is forceful and demanding. "Don't think about 'could haves', Jared; I don't. Instead, use that big brain to come up with an amazing first date. I'm gonna expect romance, Padalecki."

"Dinner?"

"Of course. And not at any chain place, either."

"Dancing?"

"Not unless you've gotten lessons since last year's Christmas party."

"In my defense, I was pretty wasted. And pining miserably."

"Can you do any better sober and with a complete catch on your arm?"

"Probably not, no."

Jensen laughs. Jared's pretty sure that what he's feeling now is something in the 'giddy' range.

"Definitely not, then," Jensen says. "The occasional flower might be nice, gummi bears are my favorite candy, and gifts of caffeinated beverages will never be turned away."

"Good to know."

They kiss a few more times, then program each others numbers into their cells. Jensen moves to get out of the SUV, and Jared doesn't stop him even though he really wants to.

"Call me tomorrow," Jared says, "whenever you want, just to let me know you're still okay."

"I'm gonna need to get taken back to the club to pick up my truck. Or, I'm gonna need someone to take me by the police station so I can give them my formal statement."

"I can do that," Jared says. "If you want me to."

Jensen tilts his head. A smile comes over his face, but it only stays soft for a moment before it turns into a wicked looking smirk. "Yeah, I want you." He winks. "Night, Jared."

Jared manages to untie his tongue long enough to croak out, "night." He watches Jensen go up the walk, then up the stairs to the small porch. Jensen gets his keys out and unlocks the door, and Jared keeps watching until he sees lights come on behind the curtains in the bottom windows. Then, hoping that no one's watching Jared does the dorkiest dance ever attempted in a front seat.

His phone rings. It's Jensen.

Oh, crap. "Please, please, please, tell me you weren't just looking out your-"

"Either my standards have slipped or I'm completely smitten," Jensen says. "I've got pizza rolls in the freezer and beer in the fridge. Get your silly ass up here. Oh, and Jared," Jensen's voice drops down into a purr, "I'm gonna consider this our second date."

Jared scrambles to get out of his car, and he practically bounds up the walk. He pauses at the front door and casts a thoughtful glance over one of the planters. He reaches out and snags some kind of purple looking daisy thing.

Jensen's lounging in his open doorway looking like ten different kinds of sin. Jared's used to seeing Jensen in various stages of undress, but seeing him like this - wearing a simple cotton tee and worn denim jeans, and just _waiting_ for Jared's company - has his engine revving like nothing else.

"Here," Jared says somehow, holding out his purple offering. "Flower."

Jensen throws his head back and laughs. "Charmer. Get inside."

Jared follows Jensen into the apartment. His eyes can't help but fix on that enticingly swaying backside. It takes a moment for Jared to realize when Jensen stops moving, and another moment to realize that his upper body is twisted around and that Jensen isn't the only one being watched.

Busted.

"Uh..." Jared feels heat blossom on his cheeks. "Sorry, I just-"

"Why are you sorry?" Jensen asks, one eyebrow quirking up. He turns around and resumes his walk into the apartment's kitchen.

Jared follows helplessly behind. "I just... I mean, I know you have to deal with guys ogling you all the time, and I don't want to be like them and-"

"Okay, first of all," Jensen says as he opens his fridge and pulls out two bottles of beer, "you're not just some random guy, you're Jared. We have a _thing_ for each other, remember? Second, do you really think I would have made it far as a stripper if I minded guys leering at me?"

"Uh, probably not?"

"Definitely not." Jensen opens both beers and hands one to Jared. "Honestly, unless I'm workin' it or looking for attention, I kind of tune that stuff out."

Jared mulls that over, especially the 'looking for attention' bit. "So, all those times when I thought I was being respectful by not out and out gawking at how hot you are, I was actually-"

"Making me think you were a huge dick," Jensen says frankly. "The way you would watch me when I was on stage, but then would barely give me the time of day when I was off of it... I thought you were just interested in me as eye candy."

Jared winces. Talk about misreading a situation, on both their parts. "Which is the absolute furthest thing from the truth."

"Well, I know that now. Duh." Jensen laughs softly

There's a kind of vulnerability to Jensen's features that Jared doesn't think he's ever seen before, and he's pretty sure not many other people get to see it either. He starts to move forward, intending on taking Jensen in his arms, but he's blocked by the opening of the freezer door.

"Pizza rolls?" Jensen asks, pulling out a box and holding it up for Jared's inspection.

That vulnerability is gone, replaced by a smirk Jared's seen far too often. Jared's still itching to touch, but he behaves himself and simply nods an affirmative. He watches as Jensen gets down a small baking pan and sets the timer on his little toaster oven.

"Have a seat," Jensen says.

Jared had been hoping to get in a little quality time on the sofa he passed by out in the main area of the apartment, but if Jensen wants to have a conversation at the kitchen table, that's okay too. Maybe that's better, for now, anyway. Jared certainly isn't opposed to finding out more about this beautiful, dangerous, and _beguiling_ man.

He pulls out a chair and sits down, letting his elbows settle on the Formica tabletop.

"No, no," Jensen says, wiping his hands off on a dishtowel. "The other way around."

Jared frowns. "What do you-"

"Turn the chair around," Jensen says. "So it's facing the living room."

Jared's confused, but he does as he's told.

"Now, sit back down."

Jared sits.

"Good." Jensen walks around the table and out into the living room. As he passes by he lets one finger trail across Jared's right shoulder. "You know, I hate having to do those stupid circuits of the floor," he says as he messes around with his iPod and some kind of stereo dock. "But I do like the fact that Jeff doesn't make us do lap dances."

A slow, techno sounding song with a heavy bass line drifts out of the speaker, and Jensen starts to move, his hips gently undulating to the beat.

Jared promptly looses his ability to swallow.

"At the last place I worked at, they were mandatory," Jensen says. He raises his arms above his head and tips his head back. "No one was allowed to touch, but I was never comfortable with it - just me and some guy closed up together in a room." He turns to face Jared, and there's a frown on his face. "It just seemed like too intimate a thing to be done with a stranger for money, you know?"

Jared has barely a second to feel overwhelming jealousy and possessiveness before Jensen starts to slink towards him, and his mind is wiped clear again.

"Like," Jensen continues, "the only person I would want to dance for like that, would be a lover." He smiles slyly. "Or a soon-to-be lover."

Jensen's right in front of him now, still moving to that damnable beat, and Jared's starting to have trouble breathing. His legs had fallen open at some point, and Jensen slots himself right between them.

"Do you know what I mean, Jared?" Jensen's fingers play with the hem of his tee shirt before he grabs the material and lifts it up and over his head. Bare-chested, and with his hips rolling backward and tantalizingly forward, he moves even closer. "Hmm?"

Jared manages to grunt, and he hopes that will be taken as an affirmative.

"Just imagine," Jensen says, his legs pressing against the inside of Jared's splayed thighs, "imagine everything you've seen me do on stage, done just for you." His fingers teasingly stroke the button of his jeans before flicking it open. "Would you like that?"

This time Jared manages some kind of strangled moan.

"Yeah," Jensen murmurers as he slowly starts to pull down his zipper, "you're gonna like that." Suddenly Jensen stops all movement and peers down at Jared. "You do know you can touch me, right?"

Jared pries his fingers away from where they had been white-knuckling it against the underside of the chair, and he immediate grabs onto Jensen's waist. He pushes Jensen away long enough to get his legs together, and then Jared pulls back firmly until Jensen has no choice but to straddle his lap.

The chair creaks ominously under their combined weight, but Jared really doesn't give a damn. He has miles of tight, warm, soft skin to explore. He keeps one hand on Jensen's waist - even though he knows the other man isn't going anywhere - and lets his other drift up the planes of Jensen's back to pull him in even closer. Jared can almost taste the freckles on the other man's collarbone, but Jensen squirms away slightly.

"Off," Jensen says, tugging on Jared's shirt.

Jared leans back long enough to comply, and then Jensen's pressing against him, and Jared's finally close enough to latch onto Jensen's throat. He hears Jensen curse, and then feels fingers working at his jeans.

Oh, wow, that's a really good idea too. Jared keeps sucking at the soft juncture between neck and shoulder, but he moves his hands to Jensen's already partially undone zipper. He pulls it down all the way, then lets his fingers delve inside the material. Jensen shifts forward into Jared's hand and the chair creaks again.

"Oh, fuck," Jensen says. "Oh, fuck. Please... Please..." He's nuzzling against Jared's neck, and his every word is a soft puff of breath so close to the sensitive spot right behind Jared's ear.

Calling on some kind of strength he didn't know he had, Jared pushes Jensen away from him. "Up," he says, "get up." He tugs at the belt loops of Jensen's jeans. "Off. Need these off. Want you naked."

Jensen's pupils are completely blown as he scrambles to his feet and shimmies out of his pants. Jared's keeping his eyes trained on each new bit of uncovered flesh, but he also get his own jeans and underwear down a bit, just enough to let his cock and balls be comfortably exposed.

Jensen zeros in on Jared's dick. He licks his lips. "Knew you'd be huge." He clambers back onto Jared's lap, and they're back together, and there's bare skin sliding against bare skin, and it's _Jensen_ , and Jared has this moment of pure bliss before the chair groans and collapses under them.

For a few beats they just sit there - Jensen still on Jared's lap, Jared on some really uncomfortable chair pieces - then Jensen lets out this huge snort that starts the both of them off into peals of laughter.

Jensen extricates himself from the fray and plops his bare ass on the floor. He tries to school his face into something stern and disapproving, and he says, "you broke my chair."

"Hey," Jared says, wincing and gingerly rolling to his knees, "the chair was doing fine until you sat down." Jared's pretty sure the outraged look Jensen's now sporting is only partially feigned.

"Are you honestly calling a multiple black belt fat?! Really, Padalecki?"

Jared chuckles and lets his eyes drag up and down Jensen's form. Oh, the things he's going to do to that body. "It's all the muscles."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Shut up and get your ass over here."

Jared takes a moment to get his jeans all the way off, then complies and finds that being on top of Jensen is just as awesome as having Jensen writhing in his lap.

They rut together right there on the kitchen floor. There's no coordination or finesse, just pure, raw _need_. The two of them move together until they're both panting into each other's mouths, and there's a mess between their bellies, and Jared's pretty sure he's just kind of oozing happiness out of every pore.

Jensen looks like he's just as pleased, but then a strange expression comes over his face.

"What?" Jared asks, kissing Jensen's chin.

"I just realized I can't remember the last time I mopped."

"Oh. Ew."

"Yeah." Jensen smacks at Jared's chest. "Come on. Let's shower, then we'll eat."

Naked, wet Jensen.. Yeah, Jared agrees with that plan wholeheartedly. He and Jensen manage to haul themselves to their feet, and Jared lets Jensen take the lead towards the bathroom. He can't help but lick his hips at the sight of Jensen's uncovered backside. That's all his. Hot damn.

"Um," Jared clears his throat. "I'm confused; what number date are we on now?"

Jensen laughs, shakes his head, and adds a little extra shimmy to his walk. "Heel, Jared."

Well, with an invitation like that... Jared grins and trots to catch up.

_____________

 

"Tread carefully," Jensen says, crossing his arms over his chest and eying his fit to burst boyfriend. Boyfriend. Yeesh. It's only been a couple days since he and Jared got together, but already that word is enough to send cracked-out butterflies racing around Jensen's stomach.

Jared mimes buttoning his lips closed, but his feelings are still broadcast loud and clear via the pleased mirth shining out of his eyes.

"Oh, shut up," Jensen mutters. "I look ridiculous!"

"Seriously?" Chad pipes up. "This from the guy who wore the spaceman stripper outfit?"

Jensen looks down and plucks at the black tee shirt covering his torso. "That was different," he says petulantly.

While Jensen's ability to kick ass and take names was praised by the dancers, other club workers, and the cops he had come into contact with, the patrons of the strip club were a little less keen on the idea. During Jensen's first dance the night after the attack he hadn't gotten a single bill shoved at him. In fact, the men who had gathered around the stage, though still appreciative of Jensen's prowess, had kept a respectful distance. And it just got worse when Jensen tried to do his circuit. Not only did no one offer to buy him a drink, but everyone Jensen tried to talk to clammed up. The wannabe john Jensen had so much trouble with the previous night even went so far as to run out of the club when Jensen approached him.

Okay, so maybe that bit was kind of awesome.

But the fact remained that Jensen's earning potential was severely impacted. Jeff had come up with a solution to keep Jensen at the club, and make use of his new reputation, and Jensen had had little choice but to accept it.

"Oh, come on," Jared says, sidling up to Jensen and throwing an arm around his tensed shoulders, "being a bouncer isn't that bad. And, huge plus, you won't have to worry about anyone groping your ass anymore. And _I_ won't have to worry about breaking the hands of anyone who gropes your ass."

"I might as well just work at Chris' gym," Jensen huffs.

"Hmm." Jared looks out over the packed club. "But if you worked for Chris we wouldn't be able to do this whenever we wanted." He puts one big hand on Jensen's jaw and tilts his face up for a kiss. And what a kiss. Jensen opens wide as Jared almost eats at his mouth, licking, sucking, and even nipping at Jensen's lips. And Jensen gives back as good as he gets.

It's only when Chad says, "you know, there's that storage closet beside the bathroom if you guys want to do your _bow-chicka-wow-wow_ in a little more private location," that Jensen remembers they're in public.

Jensen breaks away from the kiss and looks over at the crowd of men in the club. All are staring, some are slack-jawed, and a few are even trying to surreptitiously adjust themselves in their pants.

"You don't have to be half-dressed to get attention," Jared says softly before planting a tiny kiss by Jensen's ear.

Jensen looks at him sharply. Jared shrugs and flashes a disarming smile. Jensen has to struggle not to smile himself.

"Well," he says, "I guess a career change won't be _that_ bad."

_____________

end

 

The original prompt - _Jensen loves being a stripper. It's hard work, but it's also fun, and he adores the attention he gets from men (especially that really tall bouncer)._

 _What he doesn't like are the guys who think that just because he shakes his ass that means he'll sell it too. Most of them accept his rebukes and move on, but there's a small group of these men who are tired of taking Jensen's 'no' for an answer, and one night they decide to just take what the little slut's been denying them._

 _They hide out in the shadows by his car, ready to grab him when he gets off shift. They've got restraints, and a gag, and all sorts of filthy ideas for how they're going to use Jensen's poor, little body._

 _Unfortunately for them, Jensen's bff Chris is a MMA fighter who's been training and sparring with Jensen for years. Thanks to assholes like his would-be rapists, Jensen's got a lot of pent up rage he's been dying to work through. And if his moves happen to impress a certain bouncer, well that's just gravy._


End file.
